


When life gives you lemons

by NocturneProductions



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the borderlands- Fandom
Genre: (not really) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assistant vice Janitor Rhys, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, My first borderlands fic, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, rhys is a mess, so please be kind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:55:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16033406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturneProductions/pseuds/NocturneProductions
Summary: Life has never been fair to Rhys, and sometimes it's hard to tell which is more dangerous: The bandits of Pandora, or the bloody ladder climbing of Helios. Now he's a down on his luck janitor, with the constant threat of Vasquez breathing down his neck.Of course, gaining the attention of his hero Handsome Jack makes things a bit sweeter.





	1. Taste of lemonade

Cleaning was taking forever, just his luck. Being a Janitor meant that you had brutal hours, and it wasn’t uncommon for Rhys’s schedule to have him working all night. Most janitors were robots, and in Vasquez’s own words, being in such a low-life job in Helios was a miracle in of itself. Rhys grit his teeth, glaring angrily at the trash on the floor. Conference rooms were the worst by far, even the cafeteria areas weren’t as bad. At least there the mess was understandable, but _this?_

The official Vice-Janitor threw up his hand in frustration, wondering why the universe had decided to punish him. Whenever the higher-ups had a meeting, the damage that was inflicted on the room was devastating. For being so ‘professional’, they had a habit of bringing the equivalent of an entire buffet every time they had a meeting. Of course, never bothering to pick up after themselves. Rhys groaned, seeing where what looked like pudding was splattered on the floor.

 _What a bunch of assholes._ He thought.

He cracked his shoulders as he began to work, this room alone would probably take him an hour, at the very least. The work was exhausting, but Rhys would take it over Pandora any day. Plus, the difficulty was no doubt amplified by the fact that he only had one arm. The Janitor looked down at where his missing limb would have been, letting a weary sigh escape from his lips. He had been saving up as much as he could, and Vaughn helped a lot by being his roommate. Even then, Rhys had only saved up enough to pay for a fourth of the ridiculous price prosthetics went for.  

“Stuck in Wonderland, Princess?”

Rhys jumped at the sudden voice, too trapped in his thoughts to hear him coming. He sucked in a breath in an attempt to calm himself, turning towards the assailant. “Vasquez, I was not expecting you.”

The man looked smug, leaning casually against a wall. “Oh, well, I figured you would be here. Gotta admit I’m surprised you’re not scrubbing toilets at the moment though.” He sneered, looking at Rhys like he was some dirt stuck in his shoe.

The janitor stiffened. “Just tell me what you want, Vasquez.”

He did not even attempt to mask his hateful expression, glaring daggers at the man. Vasquez just looked more amused than anything, and Rhys clenched his fists around the mop. His knuckles shook a bit, and he fought to control his temper. Just being in the same room as that arrogant son of a bitch made his blood boil.

“I heard you were ah… applying for a job to be a Weapon tester's PA.” Vasquez commented, which made Rhys widen his eyes in shock.

How the hell did Vasquez know about that? In the past he would have simply attributed it to simple gossip between coworkers, back when he was an intern. He hadn’t said a word about it to anyone other than Vaughn; he hadn’t even told Yvette. He was sure that his best friend wouldn’t sell him out to that prick, so he was lost.

Vasquez noticed his confusion, and smugly smirked. “You should know that I recently took Henderson’s position, I’m the boss now. All it takes is a phone call for me to check up on you, and make sure any applications for jobs get rejected.”

Rhys tried to swallow the lump in his throat, staring at the floor. His breaths came in uneven sucks of air, and Rhys tried to calm himself down. Of course, of course it wouldn’t be that easy. He had let himself think that maybe Vasquez would forget, would let him quietly rise up in the ranks enough to at least live comfortably. The man was a lot of things, forgetful, it seemed, was not one of them. Vasquez walked towards him intimidatingly, and Rhys fearfully dropped the mop, stumbling back.

The man painfully grabbed his chin, growling. “I think you forgot your part in this little ‘arrangement’ of ours. It’s because of my kindness that you aren't floating in space right now.”

“F-Fuck you.” Rhys managed to bite out.

Vasquez gave a warning squeeze to his throat. “I don't need a cripple trying to Shit-talk me.”

He squeezed harder, leaving the brunette gasping for air. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he desperately clawed at the man’s hands, and his lungs began to scream at him for air. Suddenly, he wasn't the relaxed Janitor anymore, he was back at the beginning. He was that scared and wide-eyed intern who was always so cautious, but never cautious _enough_.

“Don't let it happen again.”

Vasquez let him go, looking confident. Rhys fell to the floor in a heap, coughing and gagging. He gulped desperately for air, resting his head on the tile. Vasquez gave him a single kick in his side, before leaving. He shakily pushed himself up, letting out a few wheezing breaths. He was back to square one, again. How was he supposed to explain to Vaughn? He forced his breathing to steady, calming himself. It was fine, he was safe. He was still on Helios, he still had a home to go back to. Rhys fixed his uniform, and made himself smile.

 

***

 

Rhys tiredly opened his bedroom door, rubbing his eyes and shuffling to the kitchen. Vaughn had already been dead asleep by the time he got home, understandably. He was just grateful that he himself managed to get any sleep at all. The encounter he had with Vasquez had left him shaken the rest of the night, and It was a miracle that he convinced his body to relax once he had finally gotten into bed.

Vaughn was already chugging at his coffee, waiting at the toaster. Rhys let himself smile. “Morning bro.”

The accountant looked back at him, grinning. “Bro! I missed you last night!”

Rhys pulled out a chair of their tiny dining room table, sitting down and sighing. “I’m sorry. You know how brutal my hours can be. We’re still up for movie night on saturday though, right?”

“Of course! Can’t miss movie night!” Vaughn laughed.

Rhys smiled in relief, before letting his head drop onto the table in exhaustion. Mornings were the absolute _worst_. Sometimes, he really hated Helios. Having to work such ridiculous hours, wish was no doubt not helped by Vasquez, really wore him down. Yvette and Vaughn were really the only breaks he got, other than them It was a quick meal and then sleep. He blinked when a cup of coffee was placed in front of him.

“Here you go, man. Can’t be sad when there’s caffeine right?” Vaughn grinned, sitting down across from him.

“Nope.” Rhys grinned. “I'm glad you have my back.”

“Anytime bro!”

His best friend started to dig into his english muffin, and Rhys started to take sips of his coffee. All in all, he was glad he always got time with him in the morning. It meant that he wasn’t surrounded by nothing but assholes, plus, It was nice to have someone who didn’t completely judge his collection. Well, mostly anyway. His first and only ex-girlfriend Stacy was not nearly as understanding as Vaughn. Rhys had woken up one night to her trying to throw away _everything_ , and after a lot of screaming and crying, he broke things off with her.

He cringed at the ugly memory, grimacing at the coffee. “Hey Vaughn? You know how I applied to be the PA of that guy in the weapons department?”

“Yeah, why? Did he take you?” Vaughn asked, blinking in curiosity behind his glasses.

“...No.” Rhys clenched his grip on the cup. “I bumped into Assquez yesterday. He found out that I was applying, and threatened him into not hiring me.”

His friend winced. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”

Vaughn set down his food, looking oddly determined. Rhys wasn’t even able to get a word in before the accountant promptly stood up, walking into the living room. He heard some shuffling, and furrowed his brows in confusion. His friend walked back in, carrying a package. His eyes went wide, a giddy feeling rushing through him.

“Holy crap, is that it?” He asked, the negative feelings from before forgotten.

Vaughn grinned and nodded. “Yep. Came last night, but I couldn’t stay up late enough to give it to you.”

He set it on the table, handing Rhys a pair of scissors. Rhys carefully cut the package open, feeling like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. It was a miracle that he even got this, and he still couldn’t believe he had actually won it. There had been a raffle at a hero’s convention, and a Raffle to win an exclusive Handsome Jack figure. Remarkably, he had actually won. He carefully took out the treasure from the box, scared that he was going to break it somehow.

“So…” Vaughn asked. “What’s so special about this one?”

Rhys looked at him with an offended expression. “What’s so special- Dude, this is a limited edition figurine!” He showed it off in excitement. “See? He’s holding a dead skag, and look at the base! It’s _gold_ edition!”

His friend grinned at him. “That’s really cool, bro.”

Rhys knew it wasn’t; that it was unabashedly really, really lame to be so obsessed. Handsome Jack was just… well, Handsome Jack. Utterly amazing in every way. He just couldn’t help himself, he had told himself so many times that he would stop, that he had finally grown up and he didn't _need_ them anymore. He had lost count of the number of times he had been ready to toss everything in the trash, but just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew it was stupid and childish, and kinda creepy. He couldn’t help it though, it made him _happy_.

Rhys carefully set the figure next to the others on the shelf, grinning to himself. His collection had grown substantially over the last few years due to his, although low, consistent paycheck. There was an irreplaceable comfort to it, because no matter how bad his day got, he would always come home to the face of his hero. He was probably never going to actually meet him, Jack only spent time with more important higher-ups after all. Besides, Rhys knew that he would die from embarrassment if his idol ever found out about his obsession.

Couldn’t stop a guy from hoping, though.

 

***

 

In the end, the action figure was leaving him happy for a good week. It was like a warm buzz under his skin, which left him energized and ready to take on whatever shit Helios gave him. This, of course, caused a couple comments from his coworkers, which were mostly things about him being ‘Awfully peppy’. Rhys would take their occasional sass any day, it was better than the slimy ladder climbing snakes that he knew the more ‘sophisticated’ people like Vasquez were. Still, he couldn’t deny that it sucked a bit to see them move on to higher paying positions, while he was stuck on the very bottom for who knows how long into the future.

Rhys might be trapped scrubbing the toilets forever, for all he knew. He had been so stupid for thinking Vasquez had forgotten about him, of course he wouldn’t. It was hard to forget about something as important as… _that._ He sighed to himself as he continued to mop the floor, content with the silence. Being a janitor wasn’t so bad, it certainly beat Pandora by any means. The benefits were nice, and he didn’t have to worry about if he was going to be able to eat dinner.

Over the past few years, he worked his way up into being able to get into the more fancy parts of the ship. Nowhere near Handsome Jack, but at least it was still pretty to look at. Rhys was unable to hold back his groan when he heard distant footsteps approaching, the higher-ups were unpleasant to encounter, to say the least. At best they ignored him, usually though they would give him a dirty sneer, a couple real dickish ones would even give him a rude comment. It never got worse than that, though.

As they got closer, a couple of voices starting to become audible. “B-But sir! That’s not enough time for us to start production!”

“Do I look like I give a shit? Those guns were supposed to be released _yesterday_ _!_ I want them done by next week, or I’ll shove one of those guns up your ass myself.” An all too familiar voice responded.

Rhys turned his head to look, his eyes wide. There was no way, there was no fucking way. Yet despite the mind screaming at him that this wasn’t possible, that this had to be a dream, yet there he was. Handsome Jack in all his glory, walking with some heads of departments.  Rhys quickly looked away, not wanting to be obvious about his staring. He didn’t stop looking though, drinking every bit of the image of him in.

Rhys had technically seen Jack in real life before, sure. During the mandatory speeches he did during special events he could barely see him through the heads of thousands of other people, and Handsome Jack had been at a distance. This was so, so different. He could feel his cheeks heat up, and he quickly looked down at the floor. Seeing Jack in real life felt like an almost out of body experience, and Rhys pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He was… he was _perfect_.

The group walked past him without giving him any notice, which Rhys supposed was a good thing. It was better than getting punched or spit on, which he had heard more than one story about from workers from the weapons department. Yeah, it was definitely better simply being unnoticed by your hero than being spit on by them. Rhys sucked in a breath, readying himself to return back to cleaning. He paused in his movements when he saw something fall to the floor.

It was small, and looked like a flash drive. Jack must have dropped it, he realized. No one seemed to notice, however, and they all kept on walking. Rhys bit his lip, contemplating calling out but deciding against it. He wasn’t too eager to be shot, after all. Once they had passed the corner, Rhys carefully crept to the flash drive. He gently picked it up, looking it over. A part of him wanted to keep it, but he quickly threw away that thought. There was no way Handsome Jack didn’t put a tracker in that thing; he had to return it right away.

His legs moved before he could even think about what he was doing, following the direction of where they had gone. He quickly realized that that was towards the elevators, and cursed to himself. Rhys picked up his pace, jogging towards them hurriedly. He turned the other corner, and much to his horror they were already stepping into the elevator. _Shit._ Pushing all sense of shame aside, he sprinted as fast as he could to the elevator. Just it was about to close, Rhys managed to put his hand in the door to stop it.

Rhys sucked in deep breath, resting against the wall for support. When he managed to look up, he went pale. Handsome Jack was staring at him with an unimpressed, and slightly annoyed expression.

_Shit, I am so dead._

“So ah...  Cupcake.” The older, very intimidating man started. “Care to explain why you decided to interrupt my ride? Kinda in a hurry here Kiddo, I’m not giving autographs.”

He coughed awkwardly, trying to ease the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. “I’m- I’m so sorry, sir. I um, I saw you drop this.” Rhys relaxed his grip, showing Jack the flash drive and giggling nervously. “I didn’t want to be a jerk and just leave it, y'know?”

The man just stared at it for a moment, and he smiled nervously, counting down the seconds he had left to live. He was all too aware of the gun holstered at Jack’s side, which would kill him in an instant if the man decided it. A grin spread across Jack’s face, and Rhys jumped a bit when he laughed.

“Wow, thank you pumpkin.” The man said. “It seems you’re the only one among these chucklefucks who has a good eye.”

Handsome Jack took the flash drive, turning to look at the board members. “So, care to explain how you somehow managed to not see me drop it? You’re supposedly the best of the best, yet a janitor with an eyepatch that makes him look like a pirate managed to see it before any of you did.”

Rhys decided to take that as a compliment, smiling a bit. Yes, this was a _lot_ better than being punched in the face; how Vasquez could take that as some act of love he would never know. He watched his hero berate the board members, as they stuttered and tried desperately to defend themselves. Rhys couldn’t exactly blame them though, he was sure if Handsome Jack yelled at _him_ he would cry like a baby. He began to inch away from the elevator, but was stopped by the older man.

“You need to be more like this guy, at least he’s _helpful_.” Jack glanced at him. “What’s your name, cupcake?”

Rhys stammered nervously. “R-Rhys sir.”

“Well ‘Reese’, you have my official Handsome Jack stamp of approval. Congrats!” The man grinned, clasping a hand on his shoulder. The janitor’s face went red, not sure how to react. “Now, I know I'm awesome, but you can go back to doing whatever it is you Janitors do.”

Rhys swallowed and nodded, stepping back and letting the door of the elevator close. He sucked in a breath, trying his best to process what just happened. The action figure he got was nothing compared to meeting the man in person. This was officially the best day he had ever had, ever. The place where Jack had touched him, firm but not painful, still felt warm. He couldn't wipe the stupid grin he had off his face, even when he began to clean again. Hell, maybe those stupid Hyperion issued videos about work attitude had a point. Man, Vaughn and Yvette were going to be so _jealous_ when he told them about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the story so far! :) I haven't written borderlands fanfiction before, but lucky for me I arrived at the fandom 3 years late.


	2. I run this stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the sweet comments! It's been a very nice welcoming ceremony.

 

“You _what?”_

Rhys smiled nervously, tapping his fork against his plate. Both Yvette and Vaughn were looking at him with shocked expressions, their mouths hanging open. He could understand their surprise, but couldn't deny how funny their expressions were. He had been itching to tell his best friends what had happened for hours, of course by the time he had come home Vaughn was already asleep. It was sweet to save the inevitable reactions for the perfect time, though. He really wished he had a camera right now.

Vaughn finally managed to speak, a slightly horrified expression on his face. “And you… you _lived?_ ”

“I mean, you do stupid shit all the time. I think this tops all of the other times.” Yvette chimed in immediately after.

Rhys felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, despite himself. It wasn’t _stupid_ ; he was being helpful! He didn’t want to be another one of those corporate assholes that just thought of themselves. Plus, Handsome Jack was his _hero,_ how could he not help?

“Hey! I wasn’t being stupid!” Rhys crossed his arms, trying not to look defensive, and failing miserably. “I mean, he dropped it! It must have been important, and I didn’t want to be an asshole. P-Plus he was super cool! Handsome Jack gave me his ‘seal of approval’... whatever that means.”

Yvette snorted, leaning back. “Must be your dream come true then, fanboy. I remember you had all those posters in your cubicle, back when you were an intern.”

“I’m not obsessed! They were Hyperion issued. Really, I’m over it now.” He laughed nervously.

In all honesty, he still had every single poster he ever got proudly displayed on his bedroom walls, but Yvette didn’t need to know that. He had meant to tell her, really he did. There wasn’t really anyway for him to do it without it sounding insanely creepy though. He was glad to have Yvette as a friend; she always fought for him tooth and nail. The fault with her though, was that she was prone to giving him, and everybody she saw fit, a hard time. Rhys could do without her dragging him for hours, or even days on end, thank you very much.

Vaughn gave him a look at that, before sighing. “I guess you got lucky. I mean, when Handsome Jack doesn’t punch or spit on people, he either tests out his newest gun on them or sends them flying into space.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m even going to see him again, right?” Rhys smiled, before sipping on his drink.

The three of them continued to eat, and Rhys couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to the encounter he had with the man. He couldn’t deny the disappointment he would feel if he never saw Jack again. Their encounter was short, but… nice. Really nice. God, he was probably grinning like a kid in middle school with their first crush. Really, he thought it was time for the universe to stop screwing him over. Couldn’t he just have this one thing, for once?

“So, Rhys… How’s your plan on getting the prosthetics going?” Yvette asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Rhys stared down at his plate. “As well as it can be I guess. I’ve been saving as much money as I can but… God the cheapest arm goes for a hundred thousand dollars, plus the thousand for the glass eye.”

It hadn't been due to a lack of trying, either. When he was on Pandora they just... weren't an option. The competition between the different corporations was unreal, and reminded Rhys of the brutal fights between different bandit groups that went down on the dustbowl of a planet. Atlas and Dahl sold cheaper prosthetics, but it was against company guidelines to have anything from a competitor to Hyperion attached to you. Something about a conflict of interest, which he just took as a way for Hyperion to have an artificial monopoly on the damn things. 

“That includes what the insurance covers, huh?” She winced in sympathy.

He nodded miserably. “Even their longest mortgage for the damn thing is more a month than me and Vaugh’s bills combined.” He tiredly rubbed his face. “Simply put: I’m fucked.”

Vaughn patted his back in sympathy. “That’s Hyperion for you man.”

 

***

 

Simply put, Jack was having a shitty day. No, scratch that, shitty did not even begin to describe the kind of day he was having. First he had been trapped in a meeting that had went on for _hours;_ a meeting that just told him that the weapon’s department had produced jack shit the last two months. Because of that, Hyperion's sales had gone down significantly. So now, he had to talk with some asshat who wasn’t doing his fucking job.

On the plus side, if the idiot really pushed him he would get to use his secret trapped door. He loved his trap door, it was good times. Jack leaned back in his chair, resting his foot on his knee casually. The man entered the room, clearly scared shitless. He let himself smirk in satisfaction at the sight, god, Wallethead was something else. Before his promotion he had just been a balding mailman, which was pretty pathetic. The first thing he bought with his promotion money was hair implants, which unwittingly brought Jack endless amusement. There was a flap of skin from them, which made it _really_ fun to stick money in the man's head. 

“Y-You requested me, sir?” Wallethead stuttered.

Jack smiled tightly, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. “Hey Kiddo, sit for me will ya?”

The man swallowed and complied, sitting nervously. The CEO folded his hands together, staring him down. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Vasquez.”

“Y-You have, sir?” He actually had the balls to perk up.

Jack drummed his fingers on his desk, figuring he may as well butter the guy up. Always made the moment when they shit their pants all the more enjoyable. God, did these people even look at themselves? Was he supposed to blow them for accomplishing little to nothing? As if they’d even have a chance. In all honesty, Jack really hoped this guy would fuck up royally on his simple request; at least then he’d get to kill him.

“Yes! How could I forget the man that came up with those sweet guns that doubled our sales?” He grinned at the stupid expression on Wallethead’s face, standing up. “Problem is Kiddo…” He slammed his hands on his desk, making the man jump in fear. “That was over a _year_ ago.”

He shakily tried to object. “B-But the latest release is my design!”

“Which means  _jack shit!_ Considering not only was it _late_ , it was also recycled garbage!” Jack spit at the man.

He let Wallethead gape like a fish, grabbing the flash drive that Janitor had so helpfully returned to him. He plugged it into the computer, watching it light up in satisfaction. It emitted a blue hologram which hovered over his desk, proudly showing off the gun schematics. Jack narrowed his eyes at the man threateningly.

“This is the schematics of a gun we produced I’d say… oh, I don't know… three fucking years ago.” He had a predatory grin at the way the man sunk down in his chair fearfully, and opened another file. “And this, is ‘your’ gun. See any similarities kiddo?”

The idiot tried to babble out some pathetic excuses, and Jack just rolled his eyes. Honestly, it was like these people thought he became president by sheer luck or something! Yes, idiotic employees, ignore his multiple achievements, and all the progress he made on Pandora. How many Bandits did a man have to kill, to earn some damn respect? Jack waved him off, tired of hearing his blabbering.

“Those are cosmetic changes, Wallethead! Apart from a fancy new sight, and a shiny new coat of paint, what changes this from the old model? You know what? I’ll tell you! _Nothing!_ ” The CEO hissed.

Before the man could utter a retort, Jack lunged forward and grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him up. “Do you like trying to fuck me over? Hm? You think you’re smart enough to screw me, and cruise along the ranks just cause you made a couple of half decent rifles one time?”

“N-No!” The man practically whimpered. “I-I’ll do better next time! Please just don't kill me!”

“I’m a reasonable man, Kiddo. Tell you what, I’ll give you one last chance to save your ass.” Jack smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “Give me a mind-blowing and original schematic by Monday, and I’ll consider not chopping your balls off and feeding them to the skags. See, aren't I so nice?”

Confident that he had scarred that pathetic man for life, Jack let him go. He landed on the chair with a grunt, looking up at the CEO with wide and horrified eyes. He just rolled his eyes, sitting back down. God, yelling at his employees really had a way of making his day so much better. He leaned back in satisfaction, before sighing in annoyance when ‘Vasquez’ or whatever his name was was still there.

“Well? What are you waiting for?! Fuck off!” He snapped.

Jack let out a snicker when the man practically flew out of his office, taking a satisfied sip from his coffee. Yes, definitely better than the day that guy was probably having.  

 

***

 

Rhys couldn’t deny the apprehension he felt, reluctantly pulling his cart behind him. He had been called to clean up a mess in Vasquez’s office, of all people. He couldn’t believe his bad luck sometimes. The janitor found it very hard to believe that this was a coincidence, though. There was no way someone as Egotistical as Vasquez, would simply let him into his office without knowing about it. Which he was honestly very fine with; he could go his entire life without seeing the disgusting man’s face again, thank you very much.

He reached Vasquez’s office, and rubbed his eyes. Sucking in a breath of anticipation, Rhys opened the door. Well, there was nobody, which was a plus. He couldn’t imagine being one of the poor people who had to clean up the bodies down at the labs, and he cringed just at the thought. Vasquez himself was surprisingly not seated in his way-too-comfortable looking chair, and was instead pacing in front of the large window of his office.

The man looked too stressed to notice him, which was a relief. What he was stressed about, Rhys had no idea. The janitor carefully scanned the room for any messes, and just as he had suspected, it was sparkling clean. Figures. He left his cleaning supplies at the door, sitting down casually in the chair in front of Hugo’s desk. As much as he really wanted to sit in Vasquez’s chair, he figured it wasn’t worth the risk. It would have probably ended in him being airlocked, but at the time it would probably be really _really_ funny.

The man finally took notice of him, stopping in his tracks. “Rhys, buddy! Just who I wanted to see!”

“Just tell me what you want.” Rhys just glared daggers into the man.

“Right to the point, then.” Vasquez sat down. “You know, I like that.”

He rolled his eyes at the man’s sad attempt at civility, finding it hard to believe that he was even trying. What, was he supposed to forgive him? After all he did? Yeah, right. Rhys simply stared Vasquez down, and there was an awkward silence that filled the room. He couldn’t hide his smirk at the uncomfortable expression on the older man’s face.

Vasquez cleared his throat. “The truth is kiddo, Handsome Jack’s got my head on the chopping block. I need you to make me a schematic for a gun by Monday, I mean you’ve done it for me before, so this time really isn’t so different.”

Rhys sucked in a shaky breath, barely containing his rage. “Let me think about it… no.”

He could feel his hands trembling, and fought to keep down the growl of anger threatening to escape from his throat. He wanted so badly to strangle the man sitting in front of him, wanted it more than anything else. It wasn’t _fair_. Vasquez didn’t deserve any of the success he got; all he did was bank off the work of other people. The man folded his hands together, and Rhys bared his teeth angrily.

“The problem is kid, that wasn't a request.” Vasquez snapped, all illusion of friendliness gone. “If I don't have those schematics by Monday morning, you and your precious friends are dead.”

“Fuck you.” Rhys retorted weakly, his heart thudding inside his chest.

Hugo just laughed. “No need to be upset, Rhys. See this, this is destiny.” He waved his hand around for emphasis. “You want to know why I’m here, and you’re scrubbing floors? Because you were so stupid that you left your schematics that were for your _application_ on an sd card, perfect for anyone to take. You couldn't handle this job kiddo, this is grown up business.”

He swallowed, feeling sick. Was this how Vasquez intended to use him, then? Drag every idea he could out of him, and claim it as his own? Rhys clenched his eyes shut, no, he couldn’t handle it again. He _couldn’t_. Just the memory of it hurt too much, and he could barely stand to look at the man in front of him. Internships in Hyperion were notoriously competitive, and not everyone was able to make it into the department they wanted, obviously.

Rhys supposed that it was his fault. He hadn’t been careful enough; he simply wasn’t used to the type of dangers Helios posed. Down on Pandora, the threats were tangible, all physical. He knew how to watch his back for any psychos that wanted to try to gut him, and the places to hide when a swarm of Rakks decided to attack. There were cons of course, but ladder climbing simply wasn’t a thing that happened, because there was no ivory tower waiting for you at the top.

Everyone on Pandora usually held some sort of fondness for weapons, they _were_ what kept them alive, after all. Rhys had a sort of fascination with guns, which he figured he must have inherited from his parents. He loved how they fired, all the little bits and pieces of them that made them work. It was his dream to create his ideas at Hyperion for a living, and for a moment, it had been within his grasp. Rhys royally screwed up, and was able to admit that to himself.

At the end of the internship program, they were required to turn in schematics and judged on them whether or not they would actually get a job. The night before the due date, he had accidentally forgotten the sd card with the schematics in his desk. The next morning he went to his desk to find it missing, much to his horror. He had nothing, _nothing_ to give to the employer. Rhys had been practically laughed out of the room before he had any chance to explain himself. Those guns were _his,_ they were his and Vasquez stole them from him. 

“Fine.” The word was a dull, lifeless hiss.

Vasquez nodded in satisfaction. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

Rhys took that as his cue to leave, numbly standing up. He ignored whatever snide comment the man decided to give him, grabbing his cleaning supplies as he left the room. What was he going to do? It wasn’t like he could refuse, if he did Vaughn and Yvette would be killed. He sucked in a shaky breath, hunching over and hugging himself. God, he was so screwed. Could he bear it? How could he see his ideas, the things he poured his hopes and dreams into, being snatched away by some money hungry asshole? Who didn’t know, didn’t _know_ the blood sweat and tears he had poured to just be in this station?

Rhys let out a pained noise, and continued down the hallway.

 

***

 

Rhys hadn’t drank since his last night as an intern, and truth be told he barely remembered any of it. Which he supposed, was the entire point. He vaguely remembered blacking out, and coming back to Vaughn dragging him back to their apartment. Right before he managed to vomit all over their couch. His best friend had been painfully understanding, but he still insisted on paying for the cleaning afterwards.

Rhys didn’t want Vaughn to see him wasted like that again, or anyone for that matter. He had gathered up whatever shame he had left and found a quiet place on Helios. The liquor he got was cheap, but did its job just fine. The janitor adjusted his position, staring out the window. The floor he was on was a higher level, for the more ‘luxurious’ members of Helios. It was filled with almost nothing but large empty rooms though, as he understood it was the floor where all the galas took place. Not that he had ever gone to one, ever.

So no one ever came up here, and it was nice and private. Of course, no one ever went down to the many cramped hallways in the bowels of Helios either. This was definitely an upgrade, no doubt about that. Though, not for the added space to be drunk out of his mind. It was the view. Pandora was there in all its glory, the view of the planet filling up the space of the window. It was certainly a lot prettier to look at up in space. Rhys took another swig of his drink, snorting at the thought.

The Vodka washed his body with a comforting warmth, turning his thoughts into a meaningless lull. God, Vaughn would probably be so upset with him in the morning. The inevitable hangover he would have would just be an extra punch in the face. Right now he didn’t care though, he _needed_ this. To just forget about how fucked up his life was for awhile. He grimaced as he took another sip, god this tasted awful. It reminded him too much of the famous Pandorian moonshine everyone seemed to drink down there.

Rhys curled his nose at the memory, sighing and shutting his eyes. If he ever had to smell that stuff again, it would be too soon. This vodka was somehow worse that that though, because it took him longer to get shit faced. Best case scenario was that he blacked out, and somehow woke up in his bed. Even though he was drunk he knew better than to think that was in anyway realistic, it was good to stay optimistic though. Which was the exact opposite of what he was doing right now. God he was a hypocrite.

“What are you doing out here looking like your dog just died, cupcake?”

Rhys jerked his head up, his eyes snapping open. Handsome fucking Jack was standing next to him, peering down at him with a slightly amused expression. He jumped in alarm, cursing under his breath when some of the booze spilled out of the bottle. He groaned to himself, certain that if he stood up it would not end well.

“God, someone must have put something in this drink.” Rhys hiccuped, glaring at his bottle in suspicion.

Handsome Jack shook with laughter, crouching down. “And what makes you say that, pumpkin?”

“There’s no way you’re here.” He sluggishly motioned towards the older man. “You’re too busy doing hero… hero stuff.”

“Aw, shucks. You’re gonna make a guy blush.” He peered down at him. “I was just walking by and saw that the door was unlocked...Ryan? Is your name Ryan?”

“Rhys.”  He corrected.

Rhys set down the bottle between his feet, rubbing his eyes miserably. The room was starting to spin, and his limbs felt comfortably heavy. He really hoped handsome Jack wasn’t actually here, and what he was seeing and hearing was just the result of some sort of drug that had been slipped into his bottle somehow. That would be better than having his hero think he was some sad alcoholic or something, which he wasn’t technically.

“For cheap booze it really messed you up, didn’t it kitten?” Jack snorted, picking up the bottle and looking it over. “Surprised you were able to drink this much and not drop dead yet.”

Rhys blushed in embarrassment, resisting the urge to cry. “Sorry you saw me like- like this.” He made a waving motion at himself. “This isn’t m-me, y’know? I don’t do this, just a.. a special bad day.”

The CEO set it back down. “Yeah yeah, just don't puke on my shoes, alright? They’re worth more than you are.”

“Trust me, I’ll save you the inconvenience and throw myself out the airlock for you.” Rhys grimaced.

Much to his shock, Jack began to laugh uncontrollably. The older man’s shoulders shook with laughter, and he grabbed Rhys to brace himself. The Janitor let out an embarrassing noise at the contact, which he could only describe as a squeak. Thankfully his hero didn’t seem to notice, instead struggling to calm his breaths. He wiped the tears from his eyes, grinning wildly.

“Aw man cupcake, you- you are a _riot!_ You know that?” Jack patted his back.

Rhys smiled hesitantly. “T-Thank you sir.”

Jack made himself comfortable, taking a swig of the liquor and making a face. “God, this stuff is terrible! I have to get you some nice champagne, stuff that really says ‘I work for Handsome Jack and my life is awesome’.”

“It’s fine. Really, I don’t like drinking.” He smiled stupidly, slurring. “Do you?”

“Nah. Only drink during parties, and even then I don’t let myself get buzzed. Gotta stay sharp, Y’know!” The CEO replied, grinning.

Rhys could understand that, everyone knew how many assassination attempts Handsome Jack went through. Though none of them came even close to successful, and they never would, either. The man had good reason not to let himself get drunk, and it felt good that he wasn’t judging him. Or at least Rhys thought Jack wasn’t judging him. Surely he would be barraged with insults if he was, right? The man wasn’t exactly known for being subtle.

He hiccuped, unable to contain his giggles. “L-Like your saying! Heroes never die!”

“That’s right kid!” Jack winked confidently. “Let me guess, you’re my number one fan?”

Rhys slowly nodded, feeling oddly confident. He probably _was_ Handsome Jack’s number one fan, which he should probably be really embarrassed by. He couldn’t make himself though: he had worked hard to earn that title! Sure he may not have all the merchandise, but what he did have _meant_ something. Jack stood up, stretching his arms. He looked down at Rhys, putting a hand on his hip.

“Well, it was fun talking to you, sweetcheeks. I think it’s about time you go home though; don’t want you crashing out a window or something.” He said.

When Jack didn’t leave immediately after, Rhys blinked in shock. It seemed the CEO was actually waiting for him to get up, which filled him with a fuzzy emotion he wasn’t able to identify. The Janitor sucked in a breath, trying to push himself off the floor. His limbs seemed to be made of lead, and the spinning of the room was making him feel a little sick. He fell to the ground with a groan, pressing his head against the floor.

He heard Jack snort. “Where’s your apartment, pumpkin?”

“S-Sector E,  L-1857.” He slurred.

“ _Those_ apartments? Aren't they the size of a broom closet?” The older man snickered to himself, finding his own joke hilarious.

Rhys was unable to resist the urge to roll his eyes, struggling once again to get up and failing. He yelped when he felt an arm wrap around him, and was hoisted up. He stumbled, struggling to keep his balance. He grabbed onto an arm; _Jack’s_ arm. Rhys felt his face heat up, but Jack was as casual as ever. The older man adjusted their positions so the janitor’s arm was slung around his shoulders, and began to lead him out of the room.

Rhys hiccuped, and almost fell over with every step. Thankfully Jack didn’t seem to mind, but did look very entertained by the whole situation. He’d probably be very embarrassed in the morning, but right now he didn’t care. His hero was at his side, he could smell his cologne, hear the way he breathed. He snuck glanced at the older man, his eyes roaming over every detail he could find. The posters really didn’t do the man justice, his aura alone was more intoxicating than the booze he drank.

“Thank you, sir.” Rhys murmured.

“Don’t mention it, how could I pass up the chance to help my favorite janitor?” Jack broke out into a grin, and his stomach tied into knots. “You’re very welcome, Rhysie.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Jack is such a nightmare, honestly. I hope I got him mostly in character though (but I did make him a tad nicer than canon because I'm a wus). The moral of this chapter kiddos is: Don't plagiarize. It makes you an asshole.


	3. A business plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rhys becomes a character in Alien: Isolation, and unwittingly becomes a parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, but I hope you like it!

Rhys was not a brave man; he was willing to admit that. He wouldn’t call himself a coward either, even though everyone on Pandora probably thought he was. He remembered distinctly being called a ‘traitor’ by his neighbors, as a farewell when he left. If he had to choose though, he would much rather be a coward, than be dead. Very few people who were brave on Pandora survived the next day; he knew that from experience.

Vault hunters, it seemed, were the one exception to this. He had never seen one with his own eyes, but the stories they brought were endless. Nothing really happened in Hollow point, if you didn’t count the murder that is. His favorite out of all of them was the most mysterious one, someone named Zero. No one even knew what _species_ he was, how cool was that? Of course, no one was cooler than Handsome Jack in his eyes, but he digressed.

Rhys’s head throbbed like it never had before, and he groaned, hunched over miserably over the toilet. He had woken up in his bed, thank god. What had he been thinking? He should _not_ have drunk that much, especially off in some corner of Helios. As if on cue, his body lurched as he retched and gagged. Yeah, he was definitely regretting his life decisions now. He could practically feel the judgmental eyes of his posters when he had woken up, spread out on the bed still in his work clothes.

There was a tentative knock on the bathroom door. “Rhys? Are you okay buddy?”

“No.” He groaned dejectedly. “Please save me.”

Vaughn entered the bathroom, anxiously adjusting his glasses. Rhys looked at the ground guiltily, he hadn’t meant to worry his friend like that. It had been an in-the-moment decision, an admittedly very stupid one. His friend crouched down next to him, patting his back comfortingly. There was a mix of concern, fatigue, and a hint of sternness.

“You should have had me or Yvette bring you to the bar if you wanted to drink man.” Vaughn's voice sounded scolding, which only made Rhys want to curl up and die even more. “You didn’t come home all night, and didn’t even reply to any of my messages. I was really worried, you know.”

The brunette made a pained sound. “”M sorry. I’m really sorry.”

And he is. He’d never felt like more of a shitty friend in his entire life, and he almost vomits again from that thought. He hadn’t even considered his friends last night, he had just wanted to escape. It had only made things even worse in the end though. It was at moments like these that he really wished he had a time machine, so he could back and slap his past self to stop him from doing anything stupid. Well, maybe not slap, more like give a stern talking to.

“Why the heck did you do it?” Vaughn’s eyebrows were furrowed in genuine confusion.

“I was embarrassed…” Rhys replies quietly.

It wasn’t a lie either. The janitor would gladly purge yesterday from his mind, if he could. He hated it, the feeling of sheer helplessness he felt around Vasquez. It reminded him too much of Pandora, having to constantly watch your back for whatever Bandit or Psycho wanted a piece of you. Hollow point was ‘safer’ in theory, though not by much. The planet wasn’t fair, per se, but everyone was on an equal playing field. Helios it seemed, was rigged from the start.

After he had started drinking was a blur. He remembered being in a ballroom, wallowing in his own misery. Then there had been… Handsome Jack? No, that couldn’t be right. Rhys could recall bits and pieces, a playful look in the man’s mismatched eyes, his _voice_. It must have been some kind of drunken hallucination, surely he would remember more clearly if the Jack he remembered was real? Of course it couldn’t be, the CEO had probably been up in his super cool office, firing moonshots at bandit camps or something. Vaughn must have been the one who found him then, it was the only thing that made sense.

“Listen, I know I really worried you, and probably pissed you off too. But…” He looked up at his friend. “Thank you, for dragging my ass home.”

The accountant looked visibly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t?” Rhys replied, a coil of dread settling in his stomach.

“No! It was like, 2 in the morning, the doorbell rang, and there you were. I don’t know why you rang it instead of just using your key…” Vaughn paused at the expression that appeared on his face. “Is something wrong?”

Yes, there was something wrong. There was something, seriously, seriously wrong. He hadn’t even been able to walk, how on earth had he gotten back to the apartment? There was no way he could have done it by himself. Was there a chance then, that it was real? Rhys felt his body go cold with horror, as he thought it over. It was the only thing that could be possible, but that would mean that his second meeting with his idol, was him being pathetically wasted. What kind of fucked up luck was that? It was like the universe was toying with him at this point.

“It’s nothing.” Rhys lied, laughing nervously. He did not want to be evacuated from Helios due his friends thinking that he was going to be violently murdered. “I just realized my shift starts in a hour.” 

Rhys gave Vaughn a reassuring smile, managing to get up from the floor.  He would have to drink a lot of water, but he would have to power through this. The janitor simply couldn’t afford a day off, plus he really felt the need to try to work off the ocean of embarrassment that was drowning him right now. He had utterly humiliated himself in front of Handsome Jack! _Handsome Jack!_ It took all of his self control to not find the nearest airlock and toss himself out.

His hero must have thought he was such a loser. Which he was, but that wasn’t the point. Rhys had wanted to give a good impression, show the man how much he admired him. The janitor stopped his thoughts there; he was getting into dangerous fanboy territory. Well, more fanboyish than the level he was usually at. Just being in close proximity with the man more than once was like a fairy-tale for someone like him. The only people that got to clean for him, were the head superintendent (a title to make you feel more important than you actually were) and two of the top performing cleaners.

Rhys hadn’t even known that was _possible_ , was there really such a thing as rising in the ranks of being a custodian? Well, he couldn’t bust his ass this week, not with Vasquez breathing down his neck. After that though, maybe he could try to weasel his way to the top, and see Handsome Jack again. The brunette’s face flushed red at the thought. God, he was caught too deep. There was no saving him now.

 

***

 

Judging from the expression on his boss’s face, this day was not going to go well.

 

The superintendent was old. Not quite grandpa old, but his golden years were definitely far, far behind him. His hair was graying, and cut short. It kind of reminded Rhys of some sort of military general, the old man certainly acted like one too. Simply put, the old coot was fucking terrifying sometimes. He was no-nonsense on his good days, and pure commandant on some others.

So when he had been called to meet with the man, he was already on edge. Superintendent Charles (No one knew his first name, so for all he knew Superintendent _was_ his first name), didn’t tend to talk to them one on one, ever. He was far more fond of lining them up and shouting in their ears as a group. Usually all of the departments would get shouted at despite only one of them being behind. Whenever it was the department Rhys was in, he was always the one blamed. Because hey, he was the guy with only one arm, of _course_ it was his fault

Charles was at his desk, his hands clasped together. His face was set in a scowl, it always was. His dark eyes glinted beneath his glasses, like hot coals. What had Rhys done to piss him off? He never broke any rules or anything, or at least, not that he could remember. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek as he sat down across from him, and he nervously fiddled with his hands.

He licked his lips, deciding to speak first. “S-So… why did you call me here, sir?”

“I have a special assignment for you.” He replied gruffly. “Do you know Paul?”

“Y-Yes? Why?” He asked.

Of course, Rhys hadn’t known him _well_. From what he knew about the man though, he had been nice enough. A little odd, but nice. Pretty much everyone on Helios was at least a little bit weird though, it had been one of the first things he learned. Seriously, finger gun fights? Such a thing could not even exist as a concept back on Pandora, you just tended to get shot. Or stabbed, or blown up.

He was a little ashamed to admit he had lunged for cover in genuine fear when he saw his first one, Vaughn had had to explain to him that it wasn’t real, that is was just an imaginary game people played. He himself had been called to the Hub Of Heroism a couple times during a big ‘shootout’, tasked with dragging the not so dead bodies away. It was really weird, the whole thing. It was kind of endearing too, in it’s own twisted a way. The Hyperion employees, they didn’t _know._ About real fights, Pandora, anything. None of it felt real to them, almost like they were children acting out cowboy fights.

Charles pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. “Paul is dead.”

“What? _Dead_?” Rhys sputtered.

“Yep. He was assigned to R&D, as you probably know. A couple stalkers managed to break out of their biome.” The old man breathed out some smoke. “The things tore him apart. Poor bastard.”

The Janitor cringed at the thought, he couldn’t imagine _dying_ like that. He himself had never had the displeasure of seeing a stalker, thankfully. Apparently they were an Elpis species, alongside many other weird creatures. And he thought _Skags_ were bad, he could not imagine trying to kill something that could straight up turn invisible.

Rhys nervously shifted in chair. “That really sucks to hear, he was a pretty nice guy. So um, was that it?”

“No. See, R&D still needs someone to clean up the… aftermath.” His boss looked at him, with something close to pity. “Here’s the thing Rhys, your number was drawn.”

He felt his heart stop, and the air go cold. His breaths started to come out uneven, and he could only stare in disbelief. This had to be some sort of sick joke, there was no way this could real. The stalkers were still probably down there! Did his boss want him to _die_?

“No. No way. There has to be a mistake.” Rhys was barely able to keep himself from panicking.

“There is no mistake here, Rhys. You know the rules.” Charles expression stayed stern. “Besides, the stalkers have apparently been locked back up. It should be safe, probably.”

‘Probably’. Well, that did not make him feel better. He didn’t even own a gun! He’d had to toss out the tiny peashooter he’d had when he arrived on Helios. They were understandably not allowed on the ship unless you were a guard, or Handsome Jack. He didn't even really know how to fight that well, except for some basic self defense. Even then, there was only so much you could do when you were stuck with only one arm to work with.

Rhys pleaded as a last ditch effort. “Please, can’t you give this to someone strong like Lawryn or-”

“No, the decision has been made” The old man said with a tome of finality. “Now go, unless you want to lose your job, that is.”

That was it, then. A part of Rhys wanted to continue to fight it, but he realized it would do more harm than good. The harsh truth of the matter was that he was just that, a janitor. It simply didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, if he died. Other than Vaughn or Yvette, who would care? Who would even remember _Paul_ after a few weeks? It was almost normal for janitors to die in horrible accidents, even expected.

That had been one of the first things his boss had told him. That he could be sucked into the vast abyss of space, could be splashed with acid and melt, and no one would blink an eye. He and the others were, after all, simply the faceless nobodies who cleaned up other people's messes. Rhys swallowed thickly, standing up from his chair.

“Goodbye, sir.” He said, trying his hardest to keep the emotion out of his voice.

The old man didn’t say anything to him as he left, he didn’t need to. The brunette had done some gross jobs in the past, but this was different. This could actually be _dangerous_ , he could-. Rhys squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a breath to try to calm himself. He would much rather have been called to clean up whatever bloodbath Jack had created that day. Jack he understood a bit, and could keep his head low to prevent the man from having one of his famous outbursts.

In this situation, he didn’t even know what was going to be down there. There could be anything and nothing, and that terrified him. In sounded morbid, but he would probably have to prepare a message to his friends. The brunette liked to stay positive, but it was good to prepare, just in case. He forced himself to hold his head up high, even though it felt more than anything like he was walking straight to his own funeral.

 

***

 

If Rhys survived this, he was definitely going to have a word with the department’s architect. Helios sure as hell wasn’t comforting, but at least the rest of the space station _tried_. There were posters, advertisements, plants. Whoever designed the Research And Development floor had to have been some sort of sick freak, because it felt like he wasn't even in the same ship. It felt more like he was part of some horror movie.

It was very… Sterile, to put it mildly. The walls were bare of any propaganda, or anything really. Everything was made out of a grey metal, with splashes of yellow here and there. His shoes made audible clacks as he walked down the hallway, dragging his cart behind him. There was some sort of noise that ran through the department, that wasn’t in the others. It was like a rush of air, accompanied by the clanging of metal. The ship’s engines, maybe?

There hadn’t been any other people either, apparently development had been stalled until the… mess was cleaned up. Well at least _those_ employees were taken care of. Rhys bit his lip anxiously, his eye darting from place to place. Damnit, couldn’t they at least have turned the lights on? He was already scared and nothing had even happened yet. The janitor looked down at the floor, his eyes running over the vents that ran along the center of the floor. Conveniently, the perfect size for some scary monster to pop out of.

 _Stop thinking about it Rhys_. He internally demanded. _Stop thinking about it!_

He stopped at a door, which was marked with yellow tape, with warnings not to go inside. Oh, how he wished risking his life wasn’t an unwritten part of the job. Rhys pulled out a slip of paper, double checking it. Yep, this was definitely the one. He clenched and unclenched his hands, taking deep breaths. Then, he scanned his key card.

The door open with a horrible screech, and Rhys cringed, trying in vain the cover his ears. Well, if the creepy human-eating aliens didn’t know he was here, they certainly did now. Rhys willed himself to step inside, despite every instinct telling him to drop everything and run. It was darker in here, if that was possible. This section was small, leading to a few observatories of the stalker biome, plus an office or two. He really could not see anything though.

Rhys fumbled with his shirt, turning on the small handless flashlight that was there. Yvette had given it to him as a birthday present, shrugging that he might need it. He admittedly hadn’t had to use it, most of the time Helios was almost too bright, and it was rarely actually dark. It seemed some godly figure hated his guts though, because of course R@D shut off all of the lights when the employees weren’t working, of _course_ they did.

He began his trek down the hall, making sure to keep his breathing even. He would be fine, he could do this. It was simple, just clean and then get the hell out of there. It was like those motivational posters had told him; he was a goddamn superhero! Yeah, that was right! Rhys’s stride became more confident, and he puffed out his chest like how Jack probably would. He willed himself to not be affected, even as he began to see claw marks on the walls.

He turned the corner, and froze to a halt. To say it was a mess wasn’t even the half of it. There were actually _rips_ in the metal walls, exposing the wiring on the other side. The ceiling light was only barely still attacked, it was hanging by a few cords, crooked and flickering. Bullet holes littered around the entire area, and there was a yellow hunk of metal strewn in the middle of the hallway.

Then, there was the blood. Some of it still looked sticky, and there was so _much_ of it. Whether it had been from his coworker, the stalker, or both, he didn’t know. It was splattered on the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. _Torn to shreds._ Those words suddenly flooded Rhys’s mind, and he tried his best to swallow down his nausea. He was the best damn janitor out there, and he would not be afraid. He walked forward, turning up his chin in defiance.

So of course, when something brushed against his ankle, he let out a high pitched shriek.

“ _Pleasedon’teatme_!”

It’s not exactly a heroic thing to say in this situation, but it was what his mouth had come up with. Rhys whipped around before he had even realized that he had done it, acting purely on adrenaline. He stomped his foot down onto the threat, anticipating a crunch, or teeth, either one of those. Instead his foot landed on hard metal, hitting it with a clang. Rhys hissed in pain, trying to grab his foot before he could stop to think about it. Then he fell, rather ungracefully, to the floor.

The brunette hugged his head, bracing himself for teeth and claws and death. Only, it doesn’t come. He furrowed his brows, looking up and his would-be attacker. A single red eye greeted him. “Hi.”

A loader bot. That hunk of metal had been a _loader bot?_ Rhys hadn’t even been able to recognize it, though, from the state it was in, he hardly thought anyone would blame him. Both of its legs, and one of its arms, were completely gone. The one arm that it did have was torn in half, and where all these limbs were, Rhys had no idea. It could really use a cleaning too, it was just as covered in blood as the rest of the room.

“Um… H-Hello…” Rhys manages to say, even in the state it’s in, the loader bot was still intimidating. “How was you day?”

The red eye runs over his face. “It’s been a mixed bag.”

Rhys can certainly relate to _that._ “Same here pal, though mine has mostly been pretty crummy, if I’m being honest.”

“The universe is not kind to the righteous.” Is it’s reply.

Well that was oddly philosophical, wasn’t it? He hadn’t known that Loader bots could think anything at all, let alone be this smart. Rhys had not seen them often, they usually didn’t just prance around Helios, they made people uncomfortable. He did remember cleaning some old geezer’s office, and seeing one being used as a hat rack though. The janitor thought that they just kind of.. stood there, until they were ordered to shoot something. Were all robots like this?

Rhys relaxed, sitting cross legged, a slight blush to his face. “Me, righteous? That’s a bit much… I’m just a janitor.”

“You have manners.” The Loader bot says bluntly.

“I... thank you?” He honestly didn’t know what to saw to that. “Though considering most people on Helios, the bar isn’t set very high.”

“Duly noted.”

Rhys let out a giggle at that; he certainly hadn’t expected all of this from a loader bot of all things. He remembered hearing that the robots were apparently getting smarter, but hadn't thought much of it. He had figured that it just meant that they could shoot things better, not that they could actually think for themselves, have actual opinions on things. That was really, really cool! What else could they do, could they actually make _friends_?

“You got really torn up by those creepy Stalker things, I’m sorry.” Rhys said, before glancing around the hallway. “Um… there aren't any more of those around, are there?”

“No. Those who did not return to their cages were sent to oblivion.” Loader bots replied, almost sounding proud.

Rhys instantly relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief. So he wouldn’t be dying today then, thank god. At least he didn’t have the threat of creepy aliens eating him hanging over his head now, but he still had to deal with everything else. The janitor let out an exhausted breath at the thought of that, standing up. He hadn’t even begun to think of ideas for schematics, the sheer stress of Vasquez made him unable to.

He began to clean the area, more to keep himself from fidgeting than anything else. What was he supposed to do? He had never even heard of someone coming up with a design for a gun in less than a week! Rhys bit his lip as he scrubbed, furrowing his eyebrows together in concentration. A pistol was small, but hard to make particularly impressive. Rifles had already been done to death, as they were Hyperion’s token products. Shotguns were difficult to truly make unique versions of.

Rhys blinked down at the now sparkling clean floor, how long had he been cleaning? It didn’t seem like it had been _that_ long. Well, the hallway was still creepy, but far less creepy now that there wasn’t blood and dirt all over it. The janitor wouldn’t be able to do anything about the damages, obviously. This was in the maintenance department’s hands now. He cracked his knuckles, walking back to the Loader bot.

“So… what’s going to happen to you, now?” Rhys asked.

“I have been damaged at a substantial level.” The robot replied. “So I will most likely be destroyed, and have my scrap parts used for others.”

The brunette reeled back at that. “What? They’re going to destroy you? But that’s-”

Not fair. Wrong. Horrible. Those are only a fraction of what he wants to say, and in the end he cannot choose one. Maybe it was Rhys’s empathy getting the better of him, but he really didn’t want the Loader bot to die like that. It might only be a machine, but it was _cute._ In its own, odd little way. Dammit, it didn’t even have a real name and he was already getting attached.

What could he do though? There was no way in hell he could fit a loader bot in his and Vaughn’s apartment, or actually buy it, for that matter. Even such a heavily damaged one would be too expensive for him. He would have to find a large enough hiding space, somewhere no one would ever look. He frowned in contemplation, looking down at his keycard. He was a janitor, so he was allowed pretty much anywhere he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

Rhys knew that there was no way that he would be able to carry Loader bot, who even knew how heavy it was. Plus, the robot was about as big he was, even without his limbs. Rhys felt a pang of sympathy, trying not to think of his own missing arm. He cleared off his cart as best as he could, before turning back to the Loader bot.

“Can you um, move, at all?” He asked.

The loader bot did not respond, instead it turned its body so it was laying face-down on the floor, and then tried to push itself up with it’s half arm. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. It was okay though, because if there was one thing Rhys could do, it was improvise. He wheeled his cart over to it, trying to figure the best way he could go about doing this.

He was beginning to realize that this was going to be a long process. “Hey pal, could you try to rest your… arm on the platform of my cart?”

The Loader Bot complied, and was able to rest the tip of it against the platform. Rhys quietly thanked whatever gods were out there, bracing himself before wrapping his arms around the yellow metal of the robot’s torso. Then, he tried his best to lift it up, emphasis on tried. He didn’t think that he’d ever tried to lift up something so horrifically heavy before in his entire life. Tears gathered in his eyes as his muscles strained from the pressure they were under. He was actually going to tear something, or with his luck, dislocate both of his knees.

He was sure that they looked ridiculous right now, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. He almost cried in relief when the loader bot, with his help, began to push himself onto the cart. Then, once it was far enough, Rhys let go. It fell onto the bottom of the cart with a loud clang, and Rhys kneeled on the floor in misery, hugging his stomach and sucking in precious air.

The loader bot spoke up, perfectly surmising the situation. “Ow.”

Rhys managed a weak and wheezy laugh, before groaning. Everything hurt. His lungs burned, and every muscle in his body was screaming at him. It seemed he didn't have a future in weight lifting, then. When the Janitor was able to stand back up, he walked to the other side of the cart, gripping the handles.

“How are you doing, Loader Bot?” He asked, peering down at it.

“I can’t see.” Was it’s reply.

Well, he was laying down face-first, so that was kind of a given. Rhys let out a little giggle, yeah, Loader Bot would be just fine. He didn't have the strength to flip him over anyways. He turned the cart around, thankfully leaving the area. He didn’t think he would be visiting the Helios zoo anytime soon, or ever, now. As he walked with the cart, it suddenly occurred to him that he looked an awful lot like a mother pushing her baby in a stroller. He made a face at that, trying to purge the thought from his mind.

Near the weapons development and the Robotics testing areas of Research and Development, there were rentable rooms that could be used for a multitude of things. Mostly, it was for creating weapons or robotics, and testing them. What was great about them was that the rooms were totally private, unless you had a certified key card, you couldn’t get in. There were only two types of people who had universal a key card that could get them anywhere, Handsome Jack, and a lesser known fact, janitors.

The only exception to this, as far as Rhys knew, were residential areas. Jack hadn't exactly been happy to go through with it, but had begrudgingly agreed to avoid the lawsuits. Those normal rooms were not what Rhys was after, though. They were too risky, multiple people used them monthly. There was one room that he was after in particular.

It was not even available to rent, and didn’t even show up in the listing. No one knew who it was owned by, and they had never seen anyone walk into it. Rys knew for a fact that it had never been used once in the few years he had been on Helios. Had it been a gift to someone from Handsome Jack? There was no way that it was the Ceo’s own room, the man tended to label everything he owned. By label, Rhys meant make sure everyone on Helios, Elpis, and Pandora knew about it. The man wasn’t exactly known for being subtle about things.

If anyone caught him, he would probably be fired. Or airlocked, yeah, mostly likely the second option on that. Rhys didn't have any other ideas on what to do though, he couldn’t just let Loader bot die! That was horrible! He was, at the very least, sentient. It just wouldn’t weigh well on his conscious. Rhys gave himself pause at that, when had the robot become a _‘he’_?

The Janitor cautiously unlocked the door, and it was then that Loader Bot spoke up. “You are saving me.”

“Y-Yeah.” He replied, blushing a bit. “I am.”

“Thank you.”

Rhys was taken aback at how truly genuine that sounded, and wasn't sure what to say. So, he decided to say nothing, he supposed it wasn’t needed. He swallowed and pushed the cart inside, before turning on the light. The brunette gaped at what he saw. One of the walls was lined in its entirety with shelves. On those shelves was more metal and electronic parts than Rhys had ever seen in his life. He seriously doubted that even the VIP rooms came with _this_ much.

His eyes lit up in wonder as he shut the door behind him, drinking in every detail of the room. There was a generously large working table, complete with a very comfortable looking chair. Rhys actually made a noise that was close to the squeal that children did when getting their christmas presents, moving further into the room and looking around every nook and cranny. The room even had a dummy to test weapons on, they really had thought of everything.  It was amazing; he had never seen anything like this.

Loader bot was unable to see any of this right now, but it was the thought that counted. Rhys had never considered working on _robots_ before, but then again, they were never really around on Pandora. Not in the normal towns anyway, from what he had heard they were everywhere in the areas where Jack was in control. With all of the tools here though, he could try. He was far, far from an expert on the matter, but his knowledge on crafting guns would help. He could try to repair Loader bot.

Of course, all of that would have to wait until after he had thought up a schematic for a gun. He sighed a bit, dreading the coming monday. He pushed the cart to a clear section of one of the laws, and braced himself. Rhys tilted the cart as if it were some sort of forklift, until Loader bot slid down, now leaned against the wall. The janitor let out an audible sigh of relief that he did not have to pick him up, he would prefer to go the rest of his life without having to do that ever again.

“I should probably think of a name for you, huh?” Rhys mused.

There was moment of silence, as if the robot was contemplating something. Then, he spoke up. “That would be agreeable.”

Rhys smiled. “I’m glad you think so. I’m not the best at it, but I’ll try to think of something.”

Another thing to think about then, at least it wasn’t negative. He was mostly just glad that Loader Bot would be safe now, even though he knew that if he was caught at the very least he would be fired. Curse him and his stupid empathy. It had been one of the few things within him that had refused to die, even on Pandora. It had gotten him into trouble more than once, but he was glad to have it.

While he was in here, he should probably start to work on the ‘project’. Working on guns was not easy when you were missing a hand. It had been difficult to learn, after living most of his life without one though, he had adapted quickly once he had started doing it. He was even pretty good at it, if he did say so himself. He mentally prepared himself to work until the early morning, and gathered the supplies he needed. Then Rhys began his long work process, oddly comforted by Loader Bot’s presence, and began to quietly hum to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't forget about Loader bot (AKA the best bot). Sorry for no Jack in this chapter, but he will be in the next one.
> 
> This story is fun to write though! I keep the writing pretty playful to keep in the spirit of the games. :)


	4. Something sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys has a day out.

 

For once in his life, Rhys did not mind having night shifts. Sure, the fatigue still really sucked, but now he was at least able to mess around with everything that was in that lab. He swore that it must have been sent from heaven, there were just so many things in there to play with. A lot of it could work for guns, but most of it seemed to be targeted at robotics. Which struck him a bit odd, but it was a pretty popular field, so he didn’t think too hard on it.

The gun was coming along as well as it could, given the circumstances. Making prototypes were difficult, even without the added struggle on only having one arm. What he had so far looked promising though, and the small parts he had made seemed to work well. So the end product would work, at least he hoped it would. Vasquez made sure to tell him that the product had to be mind blowing every chance that he could get, and that if he didn’t succeed, him and his friends would die a horrible death.

Rhys ran his hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. It was Saturday now, which only left him one more day of work until he would have to turn it in Monday morning. He bit his lip anxiously, fighting back the urge to panic. Panicking would do nothing to help him, except draw more attention to himself, maybe. Once he was on top, the first thing he would do was toss Vasquez out the airlock, and eat popcorn as he watched him suffocate to death. It seemed like a fitting welcome party to him.

The silver lining that this whole mess had given him, was Loaderbot. He had not seen many of them on Hyperion, he figured it was a luxury only higher-up’s had. From when he had seen them at a distance though, they scared the crap out of him. He didn’t even know that robots could have guns that looked that big, and they were fully customizable with an arsenal of pure pain, of course.

Loaderbot had told him that he was no different from any other one in his production line, except maybe personality wise. That only made Rhys feel more amazed at the whole thing. Loader bots, which were supposed to be dumb and disposable for fights, were capable of thought, had _personalities_. He had explained to Rhys that to avoid the potential danger of this, Loader bots, and assumably robots in general, were completely bound by their current owners will, and could even be remotely controlled.

Rhys hadn’t known that Robots could be this cool! It made his heart flutter every time that Loader bot told him something new about himself, and Rhys had so many questions that he wanted to bombard him with. Is sentience an optional thing, like any other add-on? If so, what's the part that makes that happen? He usually wasn't the type to fanboy about things, except for Handsome Jack of course, but that was another thing entirely.

It was the morning now, and he had gotten about as much sleep as he usually did. Which of course meant that he had hardly slept at all, but at this point sleeping more than 5 hours was a miracle. Vaughn was the one with the fancy accounting job, shouldn’t he be the one getting brutal hours? Well, he was still only in a low-rank position, but that was besides the point. Vaughn had mentioned something about the office being packed; accounting was one of the most popular positions that were applied for.

It made sense, too. It paid decent money if you managed to get in, and there was far less chance to encounter the big bad Handsome Jack. Which of course, dramatically lowered the chance of dying in the workplace. No one wanted to be a Janitor, but that was especially true on Helios. No one went to the fancy ship in the sky, wanting to scrub the toilets. Because after all, they were _special_ , they were _skilled_ , they were above things like that. In Hyperion though, sometimes special and skilled simply wasn’t enough, he had learned that the hard way.

Rhy’s shift wasn’t supposed to start for a good couple of hours, so he wasn’t sure what to do in the meantime. His first instinct was to go work on the project, but the personal rooms in research and development were open at this hour. Even if he dressed himself up in his work uniform, it would still be suspicious as hell for him to waltz into a room that had remained closed off for what had to be years now. Vaughn and Yvette were at work now too, which was just his luck, It was rare for him to have nothing to do, and it made him feel anxious.

Maybe he would go to the shops, if nothing more than to look on in envy. He wouldn’t say that he was materialistic, but he would be lying if he said that he hadn't drooled over some of the stores that were in there. Fancy gourmet chocolates, expensive clothes, Handsome Jack merchandise. What was not to love? Of course, then there were the tours, with the guides that always seemed to have a _way_ bigger ego than the should be able to have. Then there were all the items that had the Hyperion logo printed on them in exchange for an inflated price, the gift shops, the _Handsome Jack merchandise._

He was heading toward the Hub of Heroism before he realized that he was even doing it, shuffling into an elevator that was already full of people. It was a mix of what were obviously tourists, and some bored looking employees who were fiddling on their ECHOcomms. The elevator stopped with a ding, and Rhys stepped out, along with a few excited tourists, who were practically squealing. He resisted the urge he had to roll his eyes, honestly Helios wasn’t _that_ great. It was a cool space station sure, but the sheer amount of entitled douchebags lowered the quality of life substantially.

Rhys figured that large part of it was that Handsome Jack worked, and at least as far as he knew lived, on the ship. He would be the biggest hypocrite in the entire solar system if he mocked them for it though, after all Jack had been pretty much the sole reason he had decided to come to Helios in the first place. It was definitely crowded today, there must be some sort of event for tourism that was going on.

Rhys weaved his way through the crowd, managing to reach a gift shop and slipping inside. It was less crowded in here, thank god. It was a smaller gift shop, and the one he frequented most often. It had the usual array of T-shirts and mugs and whatever else to show your corporate pride. There was Handsome Jack merchandise too, but Rhys had already bought most of the ‘cheaper’ variety a long, long time ago.

One of the things he hadn’t gotten himself to buy yet were those masks that he always saw people wear on those tours. Getting a mask of someone’s face seemed pretty shamelessly creepy and pathetic, and he had not been quite _that_ ready to throw away his dignity. He had felt an urge itching at the back of his mind to buy it anyway, just to have it at his mantlepiece or something. He couldn’t see himself actually _wearing_ it though, he didn’t want to _be_ Handsome Jack, not even close.

He carefully picked it up, turning it in his hands. A frown grew on his face as he looked at it, and he furrowed his brows. He’d thought that the maks were a pretty good recreation of the original in the past, even though they were made of relatively cheap plastic. Now though, he noticed that there was something… wrong about it. He wasn’t able to place what exactly it was, though. Maybe the bridge of the nose was a bit too wide, or the shape of the eyes wasn’t quite right, or the face was too perfectly smooth. Yeah, now that he was looking at it, it looked _nothing_ like Jack. How at he ever thought it had?

Rhys placed it back down, glaring at it like it had personally attacked him. He pulled out his ECHOcomm, heading onto a review site to leave a scathing comment about it out of pure spite. He hoped that Handsome Jack would see this atrocity so that it would be immediately pulled from shelves. Burned in an incinerator too, preferably. He stood up, and the store’s manager looked at him in amusement.

“Hello again, Rhys. Are you actually planning on buying anything today?” He asked, peering up from a magazine he was reading.

Rhys coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Just window shopping again.”

The older man just shook his head and returned to whatever he was reading. He had become a sort of regular in this particular store, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing at this point. Rhys usually didn’t buy anything, his wallet would find some way to come to life and murder him if he did. He would still come in to ogle at the merchandise, it gave him something to look forward to at the very least.

Rhys went over to the main display, which was about as over the top as you could get. It had cardboard cutouts, a glass case, and even a button you could press to get an audio clip to play. What was in the case was a gun, and it was a rather fancy looking pistol, with a sleek dark chrome design. It was only a replica of course, there was no way in hell that Hyperion would allow weapons to be sold at a gift shop of all places. Rhys had already drooled over it for what had to be hundreds of hours now, but he just never got tired of it.

It seriously wasn’t fair. All of the cool collectors had it, it was a novelty item of sorts. Something that it was simply expected you have if you were interested at all in the whole vault hunter deal. Hell, even most collectors who weren’t avid fans of Handsome Jack had it. His eye glanced once again at the price tag, and he cringed internally. Stupid conventions filled with stupid people who had their _stupid_ decent paying jobs. The could at least stop being so in his face about it. Rhys stepped forward, pressing the red button and shifting from foot to foot from barely concealed excitement.

The audio started up with a crackle, giving way to the voice of a man. It wasn’t Jack, but Rhys was pretty certain that it was the same guy who did all of those workplace etiquette videos. “Feast your eyes onto the famous Bandit Blaster! Did you know that Handsome Jack used this very same pistol to wipe out an entire planets army? Of course you did! You’ll never match his sheer awesomeness, but with this replica you can at least aim for second best.”

With that, the cheery voice cut out. Rhys had to admit the last part was a bit condescending, but that went for most advertisements that he saw. Still, it didn’t stop the stupid grin from splitting his face in two. He felt like a little kid would at Christmas right now, and bounced in his heels as he played it again. It just never got old for him, of course the audio would be better if Handsome Jack had been the one to voice act it, but the man was busy. Being the CEO of a company came before indulging some nerds gawking over something that wasn’t even the real gun, after all.

The gift shop started to fill up with more and more people, along with a couple of small children that were dangerously grasping at anything they could get their little hands on, little monsters. Rhys took that as his cue to leave, and slipped out of the door. Usually, this was the part where he went to work, but he still had an entire three hours left before he was supposed to clock in. Maybe he would window shop at other stores, just for the heck of it then.

He had never really done it before, unless he counted the times where Yvette had dragged him onto a shopping trip, where he spent 99 percent of the time just watching her try on outfits. There wasn’t really anything that he was hurting to have, and if he did want something, it would be way too expensive for him to even consider buying. He could treat it like spotting a unicorn though, impossible and in his fantasies, but still a magical experience. At the very least it would give him some fun things to look out, maybe if he was lucky he could find a body suit made entirely of gold.

He put his hand in his front pocket, making his way to the more ‘bougie’ part of the shopping center. It was a floor above the one he was currently on, and as he stepped off the elevator it felt like it was an entirely different part of the ship. Even Yvette hadn’t brought him to shops that were _this_ fancy. The floors were nicely polished, and the walls were decorated with advertisements for brand names he didn't know how to pronounce. Even some classical music was quietly playing from the speakers, to give the feeling of a more ‘luxurious’ experience.

It was becoming abundantly clear that this was way, way out of his pay grade. Suddenly he was feeling underdressed, and he tugged at his sweater vest in embarrassment. It was still a public place, but he felt like he had violated a dress code. He didn’t even own a suit, so it wasn’t really his fault. Well, okay, most of the people walking by him weren’t wearing tuxedos, but what they were wearing was obviously expensive. Luckily most of them weren't even glancing at him, apart from a select few.

They didn’t say anything, which he supposed was the best he could ask for at Hyperion. They made it pretty damn obvious what it was that they were staring at, though. Rhys glanced down to his right shoulder, to where he had tied his shirt sleeve. It seemed weird to just have it hanging down, considering that there wasn’t an arm there to fill it. He hadn’t been self-conscious about it for most of his time on Pandora, apart from the disadvantages it gave him when fending off whatever Psycho decided it wanted to kill him.

Down there, nearly everyone was at least a little roughed up. Hollowpoint was relatively stable, but it was never completely safe. He’d at least had the luxury to live in a town, but injuries were rather commonplace. When he had arrived at Helios, he had been met with the harsh reality of his disability. Rhys wasn’t ‘normal’ anymore, he was broken, he was the odd one out. He had stuck out from the crowd, which was the last thing he had wanted.

He willed himself to ignore it; they had just probably never seen someone who didn’t have an arm before. Or an eyepatch, for that matter. So he tried his best to not take it personally, even if it did make him a little uncomfortable. After all, they probably lived it up in Eden 5, with access to the best medical care that the galaxy had to offer. Rhys shook his head a bit, pulling his mind away from thinking about those things. Instead, he turned to his attention to the shops he was walking past.

He didn’t recognize most of the brands, but then again he wasn’t exactly a fashion expert. The majority of the clothes were for women, at least from what he saw on the mannequins that were in the front windows. He was wary about actually going inside one though, because then the store’s employees would try to talk to him. They would ask him strange things like what was his ‘aesthetic’ or what were his ‘measurements’, as if he would have any clue what they were talking about. He would rather avoid _that_ headache, thank you very much.

One store managed to catch Rhys’s eye though. It was one that was apparently for men’s shoes, judging from the displays and oddly sensual posters of male models. He crept closer, his eyes locked on a particular pair. They were certainly unique from the usual dress shoes or sneakers that he saw. They were made of some sort of animal skin, but he couldn’t tell what type. They were grey, and covered in leathery scales that gave off a slight silver sheen. They had _heels_ , too. Far from the stilettos he saw many female Hyperion workers wear, but definitely prominent.

If the looks hadn’t sold him, just imagining the sound they would make when he walked certainly did. Rhys blushed, goddamnit, he wanted them. He really, _really_ wanted them. His eyes glanced at the price tag, and he cringed at the triple-digit number that was staring back at him. Despite himself, he pulled out his wallet, praying to him that a miracle had occurred and it had been blessed to generate money. The only thing that was inside was some lint, coins, and a crumbled 10 dollar bill.  The same it had been when he had woken up that morning, of course.

“See something you like, cupcake?”

Rhys yelped, whipping around and finding himself face to face with Jack. It was fucking _Jack_. The older man looked as smug as ever, smirking a little as he looked at him. The janitor made an indiscernible noise that sounded choked, running a shaky hand through his hair. He struggled to even speak in that moment, and stumbled back. Jack only laughed in response, looking very amused by the whole situation.

“Surprised to see me?” He asked, not looking sorry at all.

“Y-Yeah. You really startled me.” Rhys chuckled nervously, stumbling to add. “Sir.”

“And here I thought I would have to go through the database to find you!” Jack continued, stepping forward. “Didn’t think you’d be walking around here.”

Rhys’s mind was racing, what the hell did Jack mean by that? Had the CEO been _looking_ for him? No, that couldn’t be right. He was just a janitor, it wasn’t like he was vital to the company. He couldn’t deny the warmth that settled in his stomach at the thought of it though, even though he knew that it was just a fantasy. The thought that him, a little nobody, had actually gotten his hero’s attention.

He smiled nervously. “Oh, you know, just window shopping.”

“Oooh! Window shopping, you say?” Jack leaned casually against the wall. “I’m more of a sneakers man myself, but what pair were you looking at?”

“Oh.. Um…”

Rhys couldn't find the will to speak, gaping at Jack like he was a fish. He was sure that he looked ridiculous at that moment, and he clamped his mouth shut in an attempt to preserve his dignity. Jack probably knew way more about this kind of thing than he did, because when you were rich like him these brands were as normal as a convenience store. Knowing him, he wouldn’t hesitate to make fun of his choice either. He was well aware that it wasn’t exactly conventional.

Rhys choked out an array of noises that were impossible to decipher into actual words. Eventually he gave up entirely, and just pointed at them with a shaky finger. Jack leaned forward, looking a little curious and very, very entertainedthe whole situation. The janitor felt like he was on the verge of passing out, if he was honest with himself. It felt like his Hero was evaluating all of his life choices, which inwardly he knew was ridiculous. It didn’t stop the feeling that if Jack disapproved, that he would have no choice but to find somewhere to curl up and die from his own shame.

Jack made a clicking noise with his tongue, before gasping like he had seen something scandalous. “ _Rhysie_ , heels? I had no idea.” He said in an overly dramatic tone, but then he easily gave away his true feelings, smirking at Rhys and looking a little bit smug. “Should I expect to see you walking around Helios in a skirt?”

“What? No!” Rhys stammered, feeling like he was going to melt from the embarrassment. “I just- I just _like_ them okay? They look cool.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with that pumpkin.” Jack replied, holding up his hands complacently.

Rhys nervously rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to look the man in the eye. Jack’s reaction, well, it hadn’t been _bad_. He supposed that was the most that he could really ask for, he didn’t even want to think about what the man would do when he was actually offended by something. It was hard to tell if he was actually approving though, with the non-serious attitude he seemed to have. Well, until he got pissed at someone, that is.

Jack took the moment of silence to quickly glance at his ECHOcomm, furrowing his brows as he looked down at it. The CEO put it away before Rhys could even begin to guess what was on it though, and he quickly glanced away to avoid looking rude. Jack thankfully didn’t seem to notice, and instead stretched out his arms, before putting his hands in his pockets.

“I tell you what cupcake, I have barely eaten anything today and I am _starving_. Let’s go grab a bite to eat, yeah?” He said casually.

Rhys almost choked on his own spit. “O-Oh I can’t really afford-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jack replied, waving him off. “I’ll pay for everything.”

Before Rhys even had a chance to react, Jack had unceremoniously started to drag him away. The older man’s arm was wrapped firmly around the back of his torso, and his hand was clasped against his side. Rhys felt like his heart was about to explode from how hard it was beating, and he resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands. How on earth could Jack do this type of thing so casually? Didn’t he know of the implications behind it?

The place they ending up arriving at was not a restaurant Rhys recognized. Which thinking about it, made sense. Considering _Handsome freaking Jack_ went there and all. Jack let him go, and he felt oddly cold without the presence of the CEO’s touch. Rhys bit his lip, feeling even more out of place than he did before. This place was for people way, way more important than he was. The department heads, decision makers, and people who just were born lucky enough to be rich from the start.

Jack was in the middle of ordering their table, speaking to the pretty hostess. Rhys made an effort to look anywhere else, desperate to find something to look at. His eye locked onto a Loader Bot that was wandering the hall, the upper-class part of Helios certainly had more security, that was for sure. Rhys leaned over a bit, grabbing the robot’s attention. He hesitantly smiled and waved at it, and felt a surge of pure glee when it waved back. So LB had been right, after all. They were actually kinda cute.

Rhys jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder, turning his head to see Jack, who had a raised eyebrow. “Rhys, what are you doing?”

“O-Oh I um- nothing. Just, nothing.” Rhys stammered, smiling in embarrassment.

Jack didn't seem to believe him, and squinted his eyes as he peered down the hallway. “What, the Loader Bot? Have you not seen one before?”

Rhys tried to stammer out some sort of explanation, but at his feeble attempts, Jack seemed to let it go. The CEO shook his head, taking his arm and bringing him inside. Rhys cursed internally, he was supposed to make a _good_ impression. Right now he was sure that he was doing quite the opposite, and he didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk to back him up. He didn’t want Jack to know that he was more of a loser than he already looked! Jack looked down at him, smirking a little.

“You are something else. Do you know that, cupcake?” He chuckled.

Rhys was sure that his face had flared red, because Jack outright laughed. Rhys coughed and brushed back his hair with his hand, staring down at the floor. The floor seemed _really_ interesting right about now. At least his hero didn’t seem annoyed at him; the sheer shame of it would probably be worse than Jack killing him himself. He couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the eye right now though; god they hadn’t even started eating yet and he was already ruining brunch.

When Jack stopped walking, Rhys managed to look up. They were at a private booth, far away from the other tables. This had to be some sort of VIP section, then. It made sense, Rhys doubted he would want to eat anywhere where people would be constantly staring at him either. He had heard the rumors about Jack's paranoia too, but wasn’t sure if it came with the job of being Hyperion’s CEO, or if it was just part of the man’s personality.

He quickly sat down, not wanting the man to take offense. Rhys grabbed a menu, hiding his face behind it and reassuring himself that it wasn’t because he was afraid to look at Jack. He bit his lip, peeking over the menu. It was just brunch, so he honestly didn’t know why he felt like he was hiding from a horde of bandits at the moment. It wasn’t like Jack would suddenly pull out a gun and blow his brains out.

Actually, scratch that, he probably would.

The man in question was casually reading his menu, which was laid flat on the table. One hand was resting on his chin, drumming his fingers a bit as he read. His eyes flicked up to look at Rhys, and the brunette looked down at the table in mortification. He nervously fiddled with his eyepatch, trying his best to think of anything to say. This was _Handsome Jack_ that he was with, free for talking! There were so many questions he could ask the man, but he doubted he could ask most of them without sounding creepy.

Rhys put down his menu, trying to put on a brave face. “I um- Thank you for taking me out to eat, sir.”

“No problem. To be honest, I’m hoping that this goes on long enough so that I’ll completely miss my meeting. Hate those asshats in accounting.” Jack said, sitting up.

Rhys cringed internally, he would make sure to _not_ tell Vaughn that later. He knew that his friend wasn’t in a high enough level to actually be able meet Handsome Jack while working, but still. Well, he thought Vaughn was really cool, at least. He knew a whole lot more about numbers than Rhys did, even after the few time that he had tutored him.

“Why is that, sir?” He managed to ask.

“It’s that every meeting with them is the same meeting, you feel me?” He explained, waving his hands around. “I go in there, they say ‘Hey, we’re making money’ or ‘Hey, we aren’t making shit.’ which was already drilled into my head from the other departments the day before. I’m serious kiddo, it must be a skill to be able to talk for 3 hours straight and somehow say absolutely nothing.”

Well, it made more sense when Jack explained it to him. Rhys supposed he could understand why Jack thought that way, and how that could become tedious very quickly. The man was known for being impatient too, and probably hated being held down by meetings he didn’t think were important. It wasn’t like the company was hurting for money either, if anything it had only grown richer the last couple years.

Rhys opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the waiter came to their table. “Hello! Are you ready to order?”

Rhys felt himself start to sweat. _Shit_ , he had completely forgotten about that part. Which was really, really stupid. They were out at a restaurant for god’s sake, of course ordering food was part of the deal. He had just been so caught up in his conversation with Jack that he had forgotten to actually look at the menu. The man in question said what he wanted quickly, saying the name of some dish that he didn’t recognize.

Then, the Waiter was looking at him expectantly, and Rhys cursed internally. He scrambled for the menu, his eyes racing for a dish. He had been tempted to just order off the Kid’s menu and hope that Jack wouldn’t notice, but that wasn’t worth the risk. His eye landed on the cheapest thing on the menu, and he nervously smiled.

“I’ll have the, um, sliders please.” He said, closing the menu. “And just water with that.”

It was far from fancy, but he hoped that Jack wouldn’t mind. Rhys didn’t know what most of the items on the menu were, let alone how to pronounce them. He wasn’t exactly a ‘foodie’, or whatever it was called. He mostly just cooked what was cheap and easy, he had had more cup ramen dinners than he could count. He would probably manage to burn a salad if he made one, with how bad he was at cooking.

He adjusted his shirt collar, and turned to look at Jack. Rhys froze when he saw that Jack was staring intently at him, his eyes not wavering from him. He felt his stomach drop, and his hands started to feel clammy. Was Jack looking at his arm, or rather, where it should have been? He had to be, right? He glanced at it with shame, shifting uncomfortably. He should have known that Jack was going to bring it up, but it didn’t stop the sick feeling that had emerged in his gut.

Jack leaned forward, and his eyes widened. “Woah woah woah pumpkin, you got yourself some ink?”

For a moment, Rhys was just confused. Then, he swore he could see the lightbulb turn on in his head. His _tattoos_. The realization that that was what Handsome Jack was so excited about made his chest feel oddly fuzzy. Most people didn’t even notice, not that they were particularly hard to see or anything. His neck tattoo was still pretty visible even with the collared tops he tended to wear. His biggest tattoo was rather visible on his work uniform due to its short sleeves, though the fact that he was often wearing a big ugly pair of rubber gloves when cleaning probably made it harder to see.

“Oh, yeah!” He stammered. “What about them?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “What- Show me them, dum-dum!”

Rhys blushed in mortification, glancing down at it. He hadn’t expected Jack to be so interested in it, though the man had a wrist tattoo himself. Maybe that was just what people with tattoos did? Was there some kind of secret tattoo brotherhood that he didn’t know about? Well, probably not. It would be kinda cool though, and no less ridiculous than every other thing that happened on this ship. He wasn’t exactly able to roll up his sleeve himself though, so he tentatively held out his arm for Jack.

“Um- here.” He stuttered. “They’re nothing impressive really.”

Jack thankfully seemed to realize his predicament, and easily pushed the sleeve all the way back to his elbow. The CEO looked his arm over, holding it with one of his hands. It felt oddly intimate for what it was, and Rhys struggled to keep his expression neutral. Jack was truly grinning now, tracing a finger over the mechanical design of his blue sleeve. Rhys wasn’t sure how to even react, and just decided to endure it.

Jack didn’t do it for long though, and he felt a mixture of disappointment and relief when the older man let him go. “Jeez kid, solid ink? And a neck tattoo at that, you must have a pretty high pain tolerance.”

Rhys choked, letting out a little chuckle. “Oh- No! I really don’t.” He replied, smiling nervously. “I just figured go big or go home.”

"Is that right?" Jack asked, drumming his fingers on the table. "Well, what else are you into, besides tatting yourself up, that is?" 

Rhys bit his lip in hesitation. "Well, when I'm not working I like to do more hands-on stuff."

"Hands-on, you say?" Jack replied, wagging his eyebrows.

Rhys couldn't help it, he laughed. He quickly covered his mouth to stifle it, his shoulders shaking. Usually, he wouldn't be all that comfortable with that kind of talk, It brought up some bad memories. Jack had a way of making him more relaxed though, despite his rather sinister reputation. Did the older man even mean anything by it, anyway? If he did, he sure as hell wasn't making it obvious. Such a thing would probably only happen in Rhys's dreams, anyway. 

"Not in the way you're thinking, sir." He replied

Jack looked oddly contemplative at that, clasping his hands together and leaning back a bit. There was a frown on the man’s face now, and Rhys felt a nervous coil settle deep into his stomach. Had he said something to make the man angry? He didn’t think that he had said something out of turn, but Handsome Jack was known for being unpredictable. He bit his lip nervously, preparing an apology in his head.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” Jack said.

Rhys’s mind went blank for a moment, and he stared at the CEO in disbelief. “H-Huh?”

“That ‘sir’ bullshit.” He elaborated. “Trust me, I appreciate the sentiment kiddo, but I carried you across the ship while you were drunk off your ass. I think we’re past that point.”

The memories immediately came flooding back, and Rhy’s face went beet red.  He had had his suspicions of course, but he had managed to convince himself that what he remembered from that night was a product of some drunken hallucination. Because there was no possible way that it could be real, he had thought, No way he had actually talked with Jack while he was wasted, and managed to survive afterwards.

He had made a fool of himself in front of his hero, he realized with a heavy feeling. Rhys sunk down a bit in his seat, resisting the urge to run away from the humiliation. Being a wasted mess crying on the floor had _not_ been how he had wanted to properly introduce himself to Handsome Jack. Rhys had fantasied how it would go in his head so many times, dreamed of it as he fell asleep. He would invent something spectacular, so awe-inspiring that it would double Hyperions sales. Then Handsome Jack would congratulate him at the assembly, clasping a hand on his shoulder and saying ‘good job, kiddo’.

Looking back, it hadn’t exactly been realistic. Rhys figured even during his time as an intern that he had realized that, but at the same time he didn’t think it had mattered. It was the sole thing that had kept him going, simply the chance to even meet the man. In the end though, maybe this whole thing had been a blessing in disguise. Sure the circumstances were utterly embarrassing, and he doubted that he would ever truly be able to live them down, but he was _here_ . _Talking_ to him.

“I’m- I’m really sorry about that.” Rhys managed to reply.

“Nah, don’t be.” Jack replied, his smile returning. “You are fucking adorable when you’re drunk, do you know that?”

So he was being teased now, typical. A quiet and breathy laugh escaped from him, and he ran his hand through his hair. What was with this guy, honestly? How could one person on one hand be so unforgiving, while on the other hand being so... Casual? It honestly felt more like he was out eating with one of his friends, the actual goddamn CEO of the company he worked for. It made him feel more at ease though, and he managed to let himself relax.

 

“I um- thank you.” He replied, smiling hesitantly. “Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked it! Only one scene this time, because it ended up being WAY longer than it thought it was going to be.


End file.
